Duty Bound
by hippolina97
Summary: Harry makes a few social calls that he'd rather not. New chapter up! Rate has gone up for very mild language and themes.
1. Ferret Boy

**Disclaimer: ****As much as it pains me to say it, I am not JK Rowling. And as sad as it is, the only characters I can claim in this fic are Jean, and a house-elf. This is very depressing. **

There hadn't been a colder day in months, and the entire Wizarding World noticed. No one ventured out of doors, but preferred to stay in the warmth of their own houses. A harsh, biting breeze whipped through the small town of Scampers Lodge, but only one person, a 23 year old man, was outside to notice. Harry Potter, although wearing 4 layers, shuddered. The cold weather was doing nothing to improve his mood, or how he felt about where he was.

Duty. In acting purely on what he was duty-bound to do, Harry was an expert. But that did not mean that he felt any better about it. As he walked past rows of dull, stone houses, he felt nothing but dread about this reconciliation. Harry read the numbers on each letter-box as he passed them.

"12, 14, 16… 18," he muttered as he stopped in front of number 18. Looking up at the house, Harry had to stifle a laugh. Only Draco Malfoy could live in a place like this.

A low hedge shaped like a winding snake made its way up the path, and ending at the front door. The house itself, although obviously well-cared for, looked slightly absent and uncomfortable. Harry smirked, reminding himself that this was Draco Malfoy's house, and asking himself if he had really expected it to look warm and cosy? Shaking himself slightly, Harry made his way up the winding, snake-adorned path and knocked on the dark, oak door. It was opened almost immediately by a House-Elf wearing a crisp, white pillow-case. Apparently Draco hadn't forgotten Dobby.

"Welcome to Malfoy Lodge, what can Lokky do f…." the house-elf, who looked rather young compared to most elfs, stopped talking when she saw Harry. Her round, blue eyes went immediately to the lightning bolt scar. Harry, who was of course used to this by now, smiled down at her.

"Hello there," he said, and Lokky's eyes snapped back to his own. She shook herself slightly and went back to her official state.

"What can Lokky do for you, Mr Potter?" she asked. Harry looked hesitantly behind him, then replied.

"I wish to speak to Master Draco. Is he home?" Lokky nodded and motioned for Harry to follow her. Harry obliged, and entered Malfoy Lodge.

Malfoy Lodge was as inviting inside as it was uninviting outside. Polished floorboards lay under a plush, green rug, and the Living Room in which they were standing was clean and comfortable-looking.

"Lokky shall fetch Master Draco. Please make yourself at home," said Lokky from Harry's side, and she totted out of the room. Harry raised his eyebrows. Who would have guessed that Malfoy could live in a room like this? A voice from behind Harry made him jump slightly.

"Potty." Harry spun around immediately, and smirked.

"Ferret," he replied, almost politely. Draco Malfoy walked forwards, his hands in his pockets. He looked barely different then when he sat with his family in the Great Hall, 6 years ago. The grey eyes however, were less cold. Something had changed somehow.

Draco sat down in one of the plush couches, so Harry supposed that he should do the same. Draco looked at him for a moment, then spoke.

"So, what are you doing here, Potter?" Harry smiled slightly. Draco's blunt rudeness had not changed an ounce.

"Not into school-boy reunions then, Malfoy?" he said to Draco's scowling face, "I came to give you this." Harry handed him the gold envelope. Draco took it and immediately ripped it open. His grey eyes scanned the pale gold parchment within.

"A wedding invitation," He looked up at Harry, who nodded, "why on earth are you inviting me to your wedding?" Harry shrugged.

"Ginny's idea; she wants to invite everyone significant from our past. No idea why."

Draco's face broke into a rare grin, and he began to laugh.

"What? She wants to invite the toe-rag who tortured both of you for seven years?!" he said, still laughing. Harry gave a reluctant smile.

"Again, I have no idea why. You don't want to know who she's sent me to visit next," he said. Draco looked as though he wanted to ask, but asking questions might give the impression that he was interested in Potter's life, and he wouldn't want that.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and they turned around. A good-looking woman with shoulder-length light brown hair stood there wearing an apron and smiling.

"Oh, yeah. Potter, my wife Jean." Jean rolled her eyes at Draco and smiled at Harry.

"Nice of you to remember. Your mother wants a word, Draco, her head's in the kitchen."

"In more ways than one," muttered Draco, and stood up, "back in a minute." He left the living room. Jean chuckled, crossed the room and took Draco's vacated seat.

"So, Harry Potter. I'm rather surprised to meet you, to tell you the truth." Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Oh yeah? Why is that?" he asked. Jean looked incredulously back at him.

"Well, seeing as you and my husband loathe each other on principle, I doubted there'd be many social calls between the two of you." Harry laughed.

"Too true. Funny old world, isn't it?" he said, and Jean laughed with him. Draco entered the room again, and so Jean stood up, waved to Harry and left the living room.

"So, how's dear Mummy?" asked Harry, smirking. Draco scowled, but not at Harry, for once.

"Hasn't changed a bit. Can't get over the fact that I married a Muggle-Born." Harry looked surprised.

"Jean's Muggle-Born?" he asked, and Draco nodded, "Blimey, Malfoy, what happened to you?" Draco laughed, and Harry stood up.

"Anyway, I'd better leave you to it. I've got a few other social calls to make." Draco stood up also, and walked behind Harry to the door. Harry, not entirely sure how to say goodbye, nodded.

"Ferret-boy."

"Potty."

Harry walked down the winding path to the edge of the street, where he chuckled. _Well, that was…interesting, _he thought as he disapparated.

**Author'****s Note: ****Hey there readers! This is just something that came to mind when I was helping make a friends wedding invitations. Like it? Hate it? Let me know! **

**Cheers, hippolina xoxo**


	2. DiddyKins

**A/N ****Hello there, readers! Sorry I took so long to update, but I've been working on more than one fic. I've been stoked that people like the story so far, and I hope this chapter does it justice. I shall ask you for a favour later, but for now, on with the chapter!! **

A loud _CRACK! _signaled Harry's reappearance. Harry swore under his breath, knowing that he could not make much noise. It was not safe to be heard around here, especially by… certain people. Harry ducked out from behind a stone wall, and looked down the all too familiar street. He shuddered as memories flooded into his mind, and as he reminded himself of what he was here for. _No, come on, _he reminded himself, _you were dreading seeing Malfoy again and that didn't turn out too badly! _Forcing himself to remain optimistic, Harry cleared his throat and took off down Privet Drive. Block after block of boring stone houses with perfectly manicured lawns surrounded him as he tread the familiar path towards number 4.

Harry knew he had reached the right house before even checking the letter-box number. Preparing himself for the yell of annoyance, Harry braced himself, and knocked.

The door was opened immediately, and Harry stood face-to-face with his pig-faced cousin.

"Harry?" said Dudley curiously, frowning slightly, "Is that you?" Harry laughed.

"Who else would visit you on a downright awful day like this?" he asked, and grinned at his cousin. Harry wondered briefly what had happened to himself. First he was civil to Malfoy, and now he was actually pleased to see his cousin! This_ was_ an odd day…

"Blimey, this is a surprise! Do you want to come in?" Harry nodded, and followed Dudley into his childhood 'home'. Number four, Privet Drive looked exactly the same as when Harry left it when he was almost 17, except everything looked slightly older, and there was less food around the place. It was evident that Dudley no longer lived here.

"So, Big D, what have you been up to?" Dudley shrugged.

"Not a lot. Got married, and moved to London." Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's no big deal..." he said sarcastically, "have a few kids, and you'll fit in with a normal day! Who's the lady then?" Dudley turned away from Harry then, and Harry was amused to see that he was blushing.

"Woman called Betty Crocker," he muttered, and Harry had a hard time not laughing, "We wanted to invite you to the wedding, really we did, but Dad wouldn't let us. He said that you'd invite some of _your lot_ as well." Harry nodded, and they stopped at the entrance to the kitchen.

"It's alright, no problem. Look, I was wondering if I could speak to you, as well as your parents. Are they around?" Dudley peered into the kitchen, and then nodded.

"Mum'll be cooking tea, I suppose, and Dad's bound to be watching television."

"So nothing much has changed then," said a grinning Harry, and they entered the kitchen.

"Hey mum, dad, look who's here!" Dudley called out as they entered, and Harry got a glimpse of Petunia's shocked face, before Harry was thrusted against the wall, his glasses askew.

"What do you think you're doing here, idiot boy!" roared Uncle Vernon, and Harry's face was showered with spit.

"Hello there, Uncle! Long time, no see, eh?" said Harry in a falsely cheerful voice, and Vernon unwillingly let him down, mumbling to himself.

"Hi, Aunt Petunia. See you're keeping busy," said Harry to his aunt, but Petunia made no reply; her face was frozen in surprise. Harry grinned yet again, and without invitation, sat down at the kitchen table.

"What exactly are you doing here, Harry? Noone in their right mind would come over for a catch-up on a day like today!" said Dudley, and he sat down opposite Harry. Harry noted that Dudley no longer took up two and a half seats; he must have found a diet that actually worked!

"You're right there, Dud. I have something to give the three of you." Vernon looked highly suspicious, but sat down all the same. He waved his wife over, and Petunia slowly made her way forward, and she sat in the seat furthest away from Harry. Vernon nodded sharply, and Harry took this as telling him, however rudely, to continue. Harry reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out two gold envelopes that were identical to the one he had given Malfoy. He handed one to Dudley, and one to Uncle Vernon. Vernon ripped his open first and read it through silently. When he was finished, he handed it to his wife, and frowned at Harry.

"Why the ruddy hell are _we _invited to your wedding?!" Harry frowned mockingly.

"Well, when one gets married it is customary to invite your relatives, and you three happen to be the only living blood relatives I've got! Besides, if you aren't there, Uncle Vernon, who will gave everyone a hard time for being magical and say _'I object!'?" _

Dudley laughed, but Vernon still looked livid. Petunia, on the other hand, sat there frozen still.

"Well I'll be there, and I'll try and get mum and dad there as well," said Dudley, "congratulations, by the way." Harry thanked him, and they shook hands. Harry got to his feet to leave.

"Well, I should be off. Jolly good to see you all, and I hope to see you all at the festivities!" said Harry, and Dudley grinned. Uncle Vernon grunted, but Aunt Petunia got to her feet.

"Wait," she said, speaking for the first time since Harry's arrival, "I have something for you." She quickly rushed out of the room, and before Harry could look at Dudley in surprise, she was back, a wooded box in her arms. She handed it to Harry, who opened it cautiously. Inside, to Harry's amazement, were two wands, both covered in dust. Two golden rings lay beside them.

Harry gasped. These had to be…

"Your parents'. For some reason, they were not destroyed in the explosion, and neither were their wedding rings. They were given to me when they died, soon after you arrived, because I was the last of Lily's relatives left. I thought I ought to pass them on to you, because, well…" the rest of Petunia's speech was lost as Harry hugged her. She hastily patted him on the back, and he stepped away from her.

"Cheers, Aunt Petunia, this means loads." She muttered "you're welcome" under her breath, and Harry waved to her as he left the kitchen. Dudley followed him, and caught up with Harry as he was about to leave."

"Well, bye then Harry," said Dudley, as Harry shivered in the biting wind.

"Yeah, see you around, Big D." Harry smiled weakly as he left Privet Drive and found his enclosed spot behind the stone wall. Feeling a little confused about the recent turn of events, Harry turned on his heel and disapparated.

**A/N ****Well there's chapter two, sorry if it's a bit long. I was surprised at myself; most of my fics are really short. I can't work out who Harry should visit next, I'm thinking maybe Cho, but if you have any ideas I'd love to hear them. I love reviews, so please keep 'em coming! **

**Cheers, hippolina xoxo**


	3. Potter men and Redheads

**A/N ****Hey there readers! I know I've taken forever to update, but I've been busy with MSN: The Harry Potter Way. I've decided to go in a totally different direction with this, so hopefully it all works out. Just letting you know now, the following couple of chapters contain MAJOR spoilers for DH, so if you have not read that, I don't suggest you read this one. Now, enjoy chapter 3! **

As Harry appeared for a third time, he felt his heart wrench with emotion. Who would have thought that visits to people he always hated would work out so well? He mentally prepared himself for his next visit; he knew this one would not be as cheery as the last two. Harry frowned slightly, trying to remember the self-heating spell that Dumbledore had performed on him the night he… the night he died. He recalled the incantation and soon he was warm and dry, even in the biting cold. Harry stared up at the war memorial ahead of him, and thought with distaste of his last visit there. Hopefully there would be no snakes or Dark Wizards to attack him this time.

Ginny had not asked him to make this visit, but had supported him still. Harry knew it was the right thing to do, he didn't know how, but somewhere inside him he felt as though he couldn't get married until he took that small step. He took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

The graveyard was still and dark, even though it was still light outside. There was a sort of aching sadness about the place, and Harry felt a chill down his spine that he suspected had nothing to do with the weather. As Harry made his way down the rows of gravestones, he made a note of the ones he recognized. Many of these people had died in the war, and had been buried in this particular graveyard. From what Harry had discovered in the past few years, this graveyard had been dedicated to the witches and wizards lost in the first war, but had been expanded to fit in the ones from the second. Harry felt his heart ache as he saw the names of people he had known; Colin Creevey, Michael Corner, Padma Patil… Harry stopped as he saw the name of Hannah Abbot's relative. He smiled. He had asked Hannah who this person was during one of his visits to Hogwarts. He loved to visit all his old school friends, and Seamus Finnigan, the new Headmaster, was all too happy to see him.

Harry continued down the rows of lost warriors, and finally found the two names he had wanted to see the most.

_James Potter, born 27 March 1960, died 31 October 1981_

_Lily Potter, born 30 January 1960, died 31 October 1981_

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. _

Harry knelt down in front of the graves, and stared unblinkingly at the headstone. Harry had not come to visit his parents since that fateful day with Hermione. He unconsciously began to trace in the dirt in front of the grave with his finger, just below the wilting Christmas roses that Harry had placed there 6 years ago. It was a few minutes later that Harry stopped to see what he was tracing. The outline of a scar, identical to the one on his forehead, lay there, and Harry looked down on it for a moment. In some ways, that scar was a symbol of the amazing people lying below him on the ground, and of the love and sacrifice they gave to their son. Harry bit his lip hard to prevent himself from crying, but the sight of the gravestone and scar drawn in the dirt was too much. Harry cursed himself as the hot tears spilled out yet again, wondering why he had to be such a wuss every time he came here. Then again, he had not seen his parents' grave for 6 years. Wiping away the tears that blurred his vision, Harry looked at the names engraved in front of him.

"Hey guys," he said quietly, "it's been a long time." Harry was unsure of what else to say, but as he reached into his pocket and felt the gold parchment, he knew. He pulled out the invitation and stared at the fancy lettering on the front.

_To Lily and James Potter,_

_The Graveyard_

_Godric's Hollow_

"Ron thinks I'm crazy to be here, but Hermione seemed to understand. Although you're not here to go insane while you're reading this, I couldn't stand it if you didn't at least have an invitation. Voldemort's gone, he's finished, and now I'm free. I completed the task you worked so hard to achieve; you're finally avenged, guys." Tears began to fall again, but this time Harry did not try to prevent them.

"There's something else. I'm getting married, mum and dad. Her name is Ginerva Weasely, and we're getting married on March 13th. You'd love her, I'm sure of it. She's beautiful, and feisty, and… well, she's just amazing. She's exactly like you, mum, really. Plus she's a red-head. What is it with Potter men and red-heads? And don't worry dad, she plays Quidditch, so you don't have to worry. She plays chaser for the HolyHead Harpies, and she's amazing. You know, when Umbridge banned me from playing, Ginny took my place as Seeker? She was great at that too, but she didn't like Seeker much. She says she doesn't like being in the limelight too much, but I doubt that'll work out too well now that she's marrying me!" Harry laughed as he thought of Ginny waiting for him at home, discussing more wedding plans with Molly. Honestly, that woman was obsessed! Molly, that is.

"Well, anyway, I thought you might want this." Harry placed the invitation on the grave and pulled out his wand. With a quick incantation, the wilted Christmas wreath was replaced with a large bouquet of lilies.

"I promise I'll bring Ginny back here to see you guys, but it'll be after the wedding. There are some other things I need to do before I leave, so I'd better get onto it. I love you, mum and dad." Harry wiped away the remaining tears, and stood up. With a final look at his parent's grave, he slowly began to walk towards the grave he was to visit next.

**A/N ****Well there it is, I hope you liked it. I wanted to go for something a bit more meaningful, so I'll leave Cho and the rest for later. Next chapter he'll probably see the rest of the people he loved that died in Book 7. Please let me know what you think of this one, one: because I love reviews, they make me happy, and two: because the more reviews I get, the more inspired I am to get writing more!**

**See you at chapter four, **

**hippolina xXx**


	4. Damn Journalists

**A/N**** I was horrified when I was flicking through my stories the other night at how many stories I had left unfinished. I had desperately missed these fics, as well as writing in general, so I'm going to make an effort to update them all as soon as I can. Here's the next instalment of Duty Bound: I did say last time that I would explore more of the victims of the war, but on second thoughts, awkwardness is a lot more fun. (Readers of MSN The Harry Potter Way will understand this philosophy.) Anywho, enjoy! **

As Harry appeared out of nowhere at his new destination, he seriously considered simply chucking out the invitation, going home, and telling Ginny that they weren't able to attend. If it wasn't for the fact that Ginny could see through him like glass, he would have done so. His mind wandered back to the conversation he had with his fiancée that morning.

_Upon entering the kitchen of the small flat he shared with Ron, he had been pleasantly surprised to see Ginny sitting at his table. He greeted her, then realised she was looking a little guilty._

"_What did you do?" he asked, suspiciously. When Ginny spoke, however, her voice was defiant._

"_I have something for you to do, Harry. As you know, I've hardly needed any assistance from you during the planning of this wedding, my mother has been more than enough. However, I plan to send out the invitations this morning, and there are some that need to be hand delivered. I was hoping, since it was your day off that you could do it for me." She handed Harry the small pile of gold envelopes. _

_He flipped though it, his eyes widening._

"_No. No, Ginny. I may have given in to you inviting these people, but I will not, repeat will not, visit them personally. Malfoy?! Ginny, if I go there he'll curse me, and do you really want to marry a man with green scaly skin? And don't even get me started on the Dursleys! Dudley may have been cordial the last time I saw them, but I'm sure Vernon is no different. And as for this last one," He shoved it in front of her, "I don't even understand your reasons for this one. You hate her, Ginny. Hate her. Why on earth do you want her at our wedding? Besides, you're posting most of the invitations, why do I need to deliver these personally?" Ginny crossed her arms and lifted her chin defiantly. _

"_Harry, I want everyone that was important in our lives to be there. Admit it; all these people were significant to your life. Even her. I don't like her particularly, no, but I think it's important that she's there. And I'm asking you to do these personally because these people are going to need to see you again in order for both of you to move on from past relationships. Please Harry? Will you do this for me?" She put on her best puppy-dog expression, her big brown eyes teary. Harry snatched back the envelope. _

"_If I'm killed, let it be on your own head." He glared at her for a moment, and then kissed her on the top of the head and disapparated. _

Harry had never visited the Daily Prophet office before. Due to the fact that the wizarding paper had spent his schooling years reporting either his glory or madness, he had avoided the place, requesting that any journalists needing to speak to him visit him at his office at the Ministry. But now, apparently, he had no choice.

To Muggles, the office appeared to be an old bank, closed for decades with a For Sale sign at the front. However, the real estate company listed did not exist, and so potential buyers grudgingly left it be. Harry strode to the battered old letterbox, and acting on Hermione's instruction, slipped a piece of parchment into it, on which he had previously scrawled 'Harry Potter, Personal Visit.' After a moments pause, something clattered into the metal box. Retrieving it, Harry peered at the small badge with his notes contents printed neatly on it in gold lettering. As he pinned it to the front of his jacket, he noticed that a small, silver key had also been dropped into the letterbox. Impressed, Harry fished it out, and used it to unlock the office door.

The Daily Prophet Office consisted of its reception office, the main office, the supply room and the Editors office. Harry entered the reception office with hesitance; out of all the visits Ginny wanted him to make, this was going to be the most awkward. Possibly because he hadn't spoken with this person for 14 years, and their last meeting had resulted in many tears, none of them Harry's. The young witch sitting at the desk couldn't be more than 18, and promptly dropped the files she was holding as Harry approached. He inwardly rolled his eyes; he would never get used to all the attention.

"Um, what can I do for you, Mr Potter, sir?" She asked nervously, picking up the files. Harry nodded.

"Er, yeah, I was hoping to speak to a Miss Cho Chang?" The receptionist picked up her phone and spoke into it.

"Miss Chang, Harry Potter is here to see you... No, he didn't say, but his badge says 'Personal Visit… yes, ma'am." She replaced the phone.

"She's in her office, just through there." She motioned to the Editors Office door to the right. Harry knew he shouldn't be surprised, Cho was of course experienced enough by now to be the editor, but it was still rather strange as he opened the door of the office, and saw his ex-girlfriend seated in a plush leather chair behind the desk.

Cho Chang grinned at him, not looking altogether different from the last time he saw her, except she was now wearing a pair of rectangular glasses, and smart business robes.

"My, my, Harry Potter. Now there's someone I didn't expect to see in my office, I know how you despise my life's work." She smiled, and motioned for Harry to sit down. He did so, looking sheepish.

"I have nothing against the Prophet, per say," he replied, "It just wasn't very good to me while we were at school, is all." Cho laughed.

"I know, don't worry about it. So, what can I do for you, Harry?" Harry gulped, and took the golden envelope out of his jacket pocket.

"You may have heard that I'm marrying Ginny Weasley in a few months." Cho raised her eyebrows.

"Heard? Harry, I reported it. Your love-life sells a hell of a lot of papers, in case you hadn't noticed." Harry gulped again.

"Anyway, Ginny has this thing about inviting people significant to our lives, and well, considering how we, er, kinda…" Cho snorted with mirth.

"We dated Harry. No need to get worked up over it. I may have been an over-emotional dimbo, and you may have been utterly clueless about the female race, but yes, we did date." She slit open the envelope with a bronze letter-opener and scanned the invitation.

"Wow, Harry. An invitation to your wedding? I can't say I understand Weasley's motives – what if I turned up as the jilted ex-girlfriend making a scene?" Harry was a little offended at that.

"Ginny knows you're more mature than that, Cho. I just think she doesn't want there to be any skeletons in either of our closets. I had to visit Draco Malfoy earlier, and it actually went okay. He married a Muggle-Born, did you know that?"

Cho nodded.

"Again, I reported it. No gossip gets passed me, Harry. We've all grown up, our Hogwarts alumni, haven't we? We've all changed a little, except Lavender Brown. Did you hear she's working for Witch Weekly, she writes a trashy column on the pains of womanhood." Harry grinned.

"Sounds about right, I'll bet Won Won put her off men." Cho raised an eyebrow.

"Definitely, she's dating Eloise Midgen." Harry roared with laughter at that; Ron would find this hugely amusing.

"So, do you think you'll come to the wedding?" Cho nodded.

"On one condition, Harry. You must consent to one in-depth interview about your up-coming marriage with our Senior Journalist."

Harry hesitantly agreed, then asked, "Who's your Senior Journalist?" Cho gave a malicious grin.

"Romilda Vane."

Damn journalists.

**A/N: Just for the record, I wrote about Draco's Muggle-Born wife before JKR told us about Astoria Greengrass. So please forgive this un-canon behaviour. **


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